Village Of The Year
by MasterStorm
Summary: Niff/Hot Fuzz Crossover. When Sergeant Nicholas Duval is reassigned to the village of Sandford, Gloucestershire, all is not what it seems. Rated T for language, violence and character death.
1. Prologue

**I don't own Glee or Hot Fuzz. Any characters you recognise are not mine.**

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><p>Police Constable: Nicholas Duval.<p>

Born and schooled in London.

Graduated Canterbury University in 2005 with a double first in politics and sociology.

Attended Hendon College of Police Training.

Displayed great aptitude in field exercises.

Notably urban pacification and riot control.

Academically excelled in theoretical coursework and final year examinations.

Received the baton of honour.

Graduated with distinction into the Metropolitan police service.

Quickly established an effectiveness and popularity within the community.

Proceeded to improve skill base with advanced driving. And advanced cycling.

Became heavily involved in a number of extra vocational activities.

To this day, holds the Met record for the one hundred metre dash.

In 2011, began active duty with the renowned SO19 Armed Response Unit.

Received a bravery award for efforts in the resolution of Operation: Crackdown.

In the last twelve months, has received nine special commendations, achieved the highest arrest record for any officer in the Met and sustained three injuries in the line of duty: most recently in December, when stabbed through the hand by a man dressed as Father Christmas.

A precise knock on the door.

"You wanted to see me?"

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><p><strong>AN:**

**My first Niff fic. I hope you guys like it =D**


	2. Chapter 1

"_You wanted to see me?"_

"Hello Nicholas." Sergeant Thad Harwood. Graduated Durham University in 1999 with a degree in human psychology. Always harboured the ambition to some day become a world renowned psychologist. So far, it wasn't working out. "Please... take a seat." Nick complied.

"Hello Sergeant."

Thad folded his hands together and stretched his back, taking in Nick's stiff posture, "How's the hand?"

"Still a bit stiff," Nick's reply was sharp but not intentionally cold. It was just a part of his nature.

Thad nodded condescendingly, inhaling deeply, "It can get awfully hairy out there. I'm surprised you haven't been snatched up sooner for a nice desk job. That's what I did." He smiled, lips tight.

"I prefer to think my office is, uh... out on the street," Nick's smile was becoming slightly forced.

"Indeed you do," From his expression, it appeared that this was the moment he had been building up to. The reason Nick was now sitting in his office. "You're arrest record is..." he paused to check some paperwork, "four hundred percent higher than any other officer. Which is why it's high time that such... 'skills'," he wrapped his tongue around the word, "were put to better use. We're making you sergeant."

"I see," Nick nodded respectfully.

"In sdjfbkb uafish."

"In where, sorry?"

"In Sandford, Gloucestershire."

"That's... in the country."

Thad sat back in his chair, "Yes, it is."

"But..." Nick was lost, "Isn't there a sergeant's position here in London?"

"Nope."

"Well... can't I remain a PC here?"

"Nope."

Exasperated, Nick replied, "Do I have any say in this whatsoever?"

"No," Thad grinned wolfishly.

"But... Sergeant... I kinda like it here," He was grasping at straws.

"But you've always wanted to transfer to the country."

"Bu- In ten or twenty years or so, yes..." Thad leant back further in his chair and inclined his head forward, "Wait... hang on... I don't remember telling you that."

Thad launched himself forward 'til his hands collided with his desk, "Yes, yes you did, you said," He slid a piece of paper out of the file resting on the desk and read quietly, "'I'd love to settle to settle down in the country some time... Quinn.'" He coughed.

Nick's expression hardened, "I'd like to talk to the Inspector."

Thad's eye twitched.

"You can speak to the Inspector, but I promise you, he will tell you the exact same thing that I have," he reached for the phone.

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><p>"Hello Nicholas, how's the hand?" Inspector David Thompson. Graduated from the RADA after a short dance course. Didn't make it in show business, so he became a police officer.<p>

"Still a bit stiff," said Nick, rigidly.

"And how are things at home?"

"I'm sorry, sir?"

David shrugged, "How's Quinn?"

Nick's eyes flickered between David and Thad, who was now hiding behind his hand, "We're no longer together, sir."

David glanced at Thad, confused, before turning back to Nick, "Then where are you living?"

Before Nick could reply, Thad cut across him, "He's staying at the Section House, sir."

"With the recruits?"

"Yes, he's living out of cardboard boxes," Thad turned and gave Nick a self-satisfied smirk.

"Well, then you're packed already," David grinned, "Nick, we're offering you a _smashing _position with _delightful _cottage, in a lovely little place, that I think has won Village of the Year I don't know how many times. It'll be good for you."

Nick couldn't believe what he was hearing. He felt his jaw slacken. "I... don't really know what to say."

"Yes?" supplied David.

"Yes, thank you?" Added Thad, unhelpfully.

Nick stared in disbelief, "No, sorry... I'm going to have to-"

"You want to... take this higher?" David glared at him.

"Yes. Yes, I do."

"You want me... to _bother _the Chief Inspector with this?" David rubbed his fingertips together in agitation, while Thad glanced around shiftily.

"Yes," in spite of everything, Nick kept his cool.

"You want the Chief Inspector to come _all the way down here_?"

Nick was beginning to get frustrated, "Yes, I do."

David rubbed his hands together, then gave an exaggerated shrug, "Okay," he reached for the phone.

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><p>"Wes!" David, Thad and Nick all jumped to attention.<p>

"Hello Nick, how's the hand?" Wesley Montgomery. Chief Inspector.

"Still a bit stiff?" Thad snorted. Nick glared at him.

"Chief Inspector-" he started.

"Sit down, Nicholas." Nick hurriedly complied.

"Now, I know what you're going to say," Wes began, "but the fact is, you've been making us all look bad."

"I'm sorry?" Nick hadn't been expecting that.

Wes ignored him, "Of course we all appreciate your efforts, but you've been rather letting the side down."

David leant forward, "It's all about being a team player, Nick."

Thad smiled smugly, "You can't be the sheriff of London."

Wes' expression turned serious, "If we allow you to continue running around town, you'll continue to be exceptional, and we can't have that. You'll put us all out of the job."

Nick clenched his teeth, "With respect, sir, you can't just make people disappear."

Wes glanced at between Thad and David before returning his gaze to Nick, "Uh... I'm the Chief Inspector. Yes I can."

Nick pushed himself to his feet and made for the door, "Well, however you spin this, there's one thing you haven't taken into account, and that's what the 'team' is going to make of this." He stumbled through the open office door, and came face to face with the thirty-odd smiling faces of his 'team'mates and an enormous banner, emblazoned with the words "GOOD LUCK NICK".

Nick froze. _Shit._

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><p><strong><em><em>A/N: It would be great to get some feedback, I'd like to know if people want me to continue this and if anyone would actually read it if I do.**

**Please review.**


	3. Chapter 2

A room full of people dressed head to toe in white. A camera flashes, illuminating the blood splattered across the walls. The only sounds are of brushes against fabric and wood and the occasional footsteps. A phone buzzes. A woman sighs deeply.

"Hello?"

"Quinn? It's me."

"I know, I'm at work."

"I know... I'm outside," she turns to the window to find Nick staring back at her from the front lawn.

"Nick," she growled, "I'm _working_."

He ignored this, "What's the situation?"

Exasperated, she replied, "_You know the situation_. We've been over this." She folded one arm across herself awkwardly, as the other was occupied with holding her phone.

"No, no... I meant... here," She watched as Nick gestured to her surroundings, from the blood splattered walls to the CSI team sweeping for evidence.

She exhaled rigidly, "Two people involved. Distinct sign of a struggle. Complete mess."

Nick furrowed his brow, "you are talking about here, right?"

Quinn had had enough, "Nicholas. What do you want?"

"Well I had something important to tell you, and I didn't want to do it over the pho-" He cut himself off, dropping his hand and casting his eyes down to the mobile phone he had been clutching to his ear, "...phone." Quickly, he turned for the entrance to the house. Quinn snapped her phone shut with a glare.

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><p>Nick pushed through a group of CSI people, weaving in and out until he came face to face with Quinn.<p>

"Quinn, I've been transferred, so I'm moving away for a while," Nick held his breath.

He didn't anticipate Quinn's response.

"I know, Finn told me," She said with a slight smile in her eyes as she indicated to the incredible Hulk of a man that was lumbering past.

Floored, Nick stuttered, "W-well... I wanted to... I wanted to tell you in person," Quinn shrugged, "I mean... there's no reason we can't be civil with each other...It's not that long ago we were talking about getting marri-"

"Yes, well you were already married to the Force, weren't you?" Quinn interrupted.

Nick looked uncomfortable.

"We're actually supposed to call it the Service now. Official vocab guidelines that force is too aggressive," he gestured for emphasis.

Quinn turned to glare at him, "See! It's only ever about the job! It's all you care about!" Her tone was bitter and cutting. Nick's eyes widened in hurt.

"That's not true..."

"No, you're right," she said, sarcastically, "You do have that Rubber Plant."

Nick was torn between correcting her and letting it slide. In the end, the perfectionist in him won out in a way that may have been entirely childish and petty, but he honestly didn't really care, "It's a Japanese Peace Lily."

This enraged Quinn, though she had obviously expected it, "You just can't switch off, can you Nicholas?" She tore her work-issued safety goggles from her face, "And until you find a _person_ you care about more than your job, you never will!" People were beginning to turn to watch the altercation. Nick shifted nervously, but Quinn seemed oblivious.

"Quinn..."

"Oh, don't give me that. You were the one who suggested we 'take a break', anyway."

Nick cast his eyes down, "Yes, well... guilty people often make the first move." At this, Quinn looked away.

She glanced from side to side, her expression tightening, "Actually, there's... something I need to tell you..."

Nick sighed, "You're seeing someone else." It wasn't a question.

Quinn drew her eyebrows together, "Yes... how did you-?"

"Is it Finn?"

"No... do you really think I'd ever go crawling back to him? It's Sam."

Nick's face went cold, his attention elsewhere, "I see..."

"Oh Nicholas..." Quinn's expression softened.

His eyes caught on something behind her, and he pointed slowly, "You do realise that window was broken from the inside?"

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><p><strong>AN Thank you to everyone who reviewed. You guys keep me going.**


	4. Chapter 3

"You've reached Nicholas Duval, please leave a message after the beep."

*BEEP*

"'Allo there Nick! Sue Sterling here, you're new Inspector. Just calling the details of your accommodation. We've got you a lovely little cottage on Spencer Hill. I look forward to meeting you soon! Cheerio." _She sounds far too cheery for a police officer._

*BEEP*

"Nick, Sue again... uh, one other thing about your cottage... it's not ready." _Oh, well that's _fantastic,_ isn't it?_

*BEEP*

Nick crossed and uncrossed his legs, transferring his Japanese Peace Lily to one side of him as he stretched his fingers for what felt like the fiftieth time. His stomach grumbled quietly. He ignored it. He checked his watch. His third train of the day was due any minute, though one wouldn't have guessed from the amount of activity on the platform. He grimaced. This was going to be a very long day.

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><p>His body shook with the weight of trying to protect his Peace Lily from other passengers. He curled an arm around it, protectively. He knew he was getting weird looks, but he couldn't help it. He couldn't help it.<p>

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><p>He breathed a sharp sigh of relief as he settled into the back of a taxi; his last mode of transport of the day. He balanced his Peace Lily on the seat beside him, strapping it in carefully.<p>

Only a few more miles.

Rain had begun to beat down on the taxi roof.

He pulled out his phone, and watched as the bars of reception steadily dropped, the further from the train station he got. Pocketing it, he folded his arms around himself, creating himself a cocoon. Several moments later, he stretching, trying to work out the kinks in his back and neck, to no avail. He grumbled tiredly. Well this was no good. No good at all.

He began to notice signs as he passed them:

WELCOME TO SANDFORD

MODEL VILLAGE (This one came with a small picture of a flower, so he assumed it was some kind of local sight.)

THE SWAN HOTEL

_Ah... finally._

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><p>Glad to be inside instead of out in the rain, Nick decided to take a look around.<p>

He was in a fairly large room, darkly decorated with tapestries and old arm chairs, all facing a roaring fire. In the corner, there stood an old desk, backing on to a door of what looked like an office. This was the hotel lobby.

He jumped slightly when he caught sight of a slight man, sound asleep in an armchair, and turned quickly towards the desk, where a young Asian woman sat, tapping her pen against a newspaper.

"It would appear the heavens have opened," her voice had the eerie quality of creaking floorboard in the middle of the night, a rocking chair in a dark room with nobody in it. She didn't look up.

Wary, Nick approached her, "I was hoping to... uh... check in?"

"Check in? But you've always been here." Nick felt his blood run cold.

"Excuse me?" He lowered his voice, slightly afraid to disturb the air around this woman.

Finally, she looked up, "Oh! I'm sorry! I thought you were my husband... dear me..." She cleared her throat, "You must be Sergeant Duval."

"Y-yes... yes I am," Nick replied, a little shaken.

"I'm Tina Cohen-Chang; I trust you had a pleasant trip," She smiled sweetly, "Fascist."

His face fell, "I beg your pardon?"

"System of government characterised by extreme dictatorship," She indicated the crossword she was doing, "Seven across."

Nick exhaled, "Oh I see. It's 'Fascism', actually."

She looked up at him, and bared her teeth in what he supposed was a smile, "Fascism... Wonderful." She bent over under the desk and pulled out an ancient-looking log book, "Now we've put you in the Castle Suite. Mike will escort you up there," she handed him the keys, and indicated the sleeping man in the arm chair. Nick glanced over, sceptically.

"Uh well... I could actually probably make my own way up," He glanced down, "Hag."

Her eyes narrowed, "I beg your pardon?"

"Evil old woman, considered frightful or ugly. Twelve down," He nodded at the crossword.

"Oh... bless you," she said, a little too sweetly.

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><p>Nick unlocked the door to the Castle Suite with the keys he'd been given by Mrs Cohen-Chang, and dragged in his suitcase, his Peace Lily under one arm. He looked around the small, poky room.<p>

There was a single bed, pushing up against wall, sheets and covers brown to match the rest of the decor. There was a small bedside table with a lamp; a lumpy wooden chair in one corner, and a chest of drawers opposite the bed. He set his Peace Lily on the chest of drawers and went to investigate the door at the other end of the room.

He discovered it led to a small en-suite bathroom. _Oh well... could be worse._

He hung his coat on the back of the door, and sat down on the edge of the bed.

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><p><strong>AN:**

**Are people actually reading this? :/**

**I'd quite like to know...**


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